Tyris Goldtooth grinned as her lava blasted the final wizard on the enemy team. The marsh boiled around her, sending steam rising into the air while Vesuvius roared in victory.

“Perfect,” she said, flying forward and snatching the flag from the fallen enemies’ flag-bearer. “Your flag makes a fine addition to our collection.”

She handed it to her team’s flag-bearer and gazed proudly on her teammates: only one of them had been eliminated so far, and their mana reserves were still bursting.

“Well done, Vesuvius,” she patted her familiar on the side of his shell.

The vulcanchelone groaned happily at her touch.

“Pssst!” A voice hissed.

She blinked. “Vesuvius? Was that you?”

The tortoise blinked at her with a puzzled look in his eyes.

“No, Tyris! Over here!”

“Ah! What?!” she whirled around. “Who’s there-Wait…I know that voice. Wolud, is that you?”

“Guilty as charged, Tyris.”

“Hmph.” She scanned their surroundings, glancing at her team. They immediately turned their backs to each other and began eyeing the surrounding marsh, searching the water for the owner of the voice.

“Using an illusion to throw your voice, eh?” she said, seeing no one nearby. “Smart.”

“I have something to show you, and I didn’t want you to get too…quick with the attacks before I had a chance to share.”

“Is it your flag? I’d love it if you showed me that…then handed it over,” she paused. “No wait, no I wouldn’t. Where would the fun be in that? I’d want the pleasure of prying it from your flag-bearer myself!”

“As…charming as that sounds, I think I’ll pass. But what I do have to show you might interest you anyway.”

“What is it?”

“Revenge.”

An illusion of an aerial view of the battlefield appeared in front of Tyris. Tall grass burnt and ash-grey smoke was billowing through the air. Her eyes narrowed as a familiar, four-armed figure crashed through the flames.

“There you are…” she said as she watched Claygon’s head turn then look to the south.

The illusion shifted: there was Alex Roth rolling through the grass as his spells deflected incoming arrows while his golem rushed toward him.

The view shifted again.

“The Outcasts,” Tyris laughed, clapping her hands as excitement built up in her.

Three centaurs were galloping toward Roth. Each arrow they fired was getting closer to breaching his protective spells the more the archers closed the distance between them and him. His golem surged forward then positioned his body between Alex and the storm of arrows.

Tyris watched them bounce off the construct’s body.

A smile curved across her lips.

“Interesting,” she said. “That does look like quite the opportunity. Alright, Wolud, you sneaky little bastard. Let’s assume for a moment that you didn’t conjure this out of your fertile imagination: in which case, I’ll end you. What do you have in mind?”

Crack! Crack! Crack!

Arrows slammed into Claygon as Alex pressed himself to the golem’s back; some swerved around the massive form, aiming right for Alex’s vitals.

“Shit!” He moved his forceshield and force armour-shielded arms in the Cleansing Movements.

Crack! Crack! Crack!

The arrows were being deflected, but were becoming harder to block.

Flame, lightning and ice flew over Claygon’s head.

Crash!

They hit the ground, right in the midst of the remaining members of the three-team alliance. The three elements whirled together. Air pressure changed. Heat boiled ice.

Water rapidly expanded.

Boom!

It all exploded.

Steam and ice shards blew through the air, sending Alex diving to the ground as shrapnel peppered Claygon’s back.

“Bollocks! Bolloooocks!” one of the Ursa-Lupines swore. “Who’s still around?”

“Me-” someone rose up.

Thwack!

Two of the Outcasts’ arrows blasted both contestants from the contest.

“Retreat!” Khalik cried from their hiding spot in the grass. “A fighting retreat, just as we did with the Bonedrinker!”

Schwwwp!

Alex could barely see the prince—as he flew low—parting the tall grass, weaving his way back toward the mountain.

“No!” Grimloch roared. “If we run, they'll hunt us like prey. Remember the elemental we fought! It chased us down to crush us! We have Claygon and we have me! We should take them now!”

Alex frowned, his mind racing.

If they just ran across this open field, there was no way they’d make it to the mountain. They could stay low in the grass, but those archers were supernaturally skilled: They’d pick them off once they got close enough.

“A fighting retreat is a good idea, but maybe a compromise would be better. We need cover and something else for them to shoot at.”

He glanced up at Claygon.

“You’re up, buddy.” Alex tapped the golem on his back. “Fry ‘em and smash ‘em.”

Claygon shot toward the Outcasts at full speed.

Whoooom!

All three fire-gems charged as he surged through the air.

Whoooosh!

The grass in front of him flared into flame, spreading fire and smoke.

Alex winced. “Hope they don’t mind doing some reseeding for next year’s Grand Battle.”

As the smoke billowed in the air, Alex lost sight of Claygon, but the smoke had now grown dense enough to conceal his team from the archers.

It was time to regroup. He quickly drank a flight potion and shot toward his friends. Grass slapped against his forceshield and the wind billowed his clothing as he tore along the plain, leaving smoke and burning grass behind. He joined Khalik, Thundar, Grimloch, Isolde, and Svenia flying low in a V-formation toward the mountain.

He glanced back.

The Ursa-Lupines and their allies were scattered and broken. On the battlefield, only a few stragglers still remained of their once massive force. It was a scene he looked on with one regret, his elemental beetles had vanished in the explosion caused by The Outcasts.

Isolde looked back as well. “I know this might not be the most opportune of moments, but did any of you see Derek?”

“I did not!” Khalik shouted.

“Nor I, Lady Von Anmut,” Svenia said.

“No,” Thundar and Grimloch said together.

“Not even a little,” Alex said.

“Damn!” Isolde swore.

Boom!

An explosion erupted behind them. A column of fire and steam roared into the air from the distance. Claygon must have reached The Outcasts. A part of Alex really wanted to see that battle, but another part wanted to get as far away from those archers as possi-

Something caught his eyes.

Maybe he wouldn’t have a choice in that matter.

Three figures galloped around a wavering column of smoke.

“Shit!” Alex whispered harshly. “The archers are after us. Keep quiet, stay low.”

The team fell silent as they shot through the grass. It rustled around him.

‘Don’t notice,’ he thought. ‘Come on please don’t see the grass movi-’

Whish!

Crack!

“Argh!” Isolde cried.

“Are you alright?” Khalik said.

“An arrow struck me but the force armour took the blow. Thankfully, I am unharmed and still here!”

Whiiish! Whiiish!

Arrows rained down, slamming into their armour.

“I think they saw us!” Thundar cried.

“No kidding!” Alex said bitterly.

Whiish! Whiish! Whiish!

Another volley of arrows launched into the air, straight toward the Outcasts. If their archers had forgotten about the huntress, that volley immediately brought her back to mind.

‘Yes!’ Alex whispered. “Get ‘em, Theresa!’

Her arrows flew at the Outcasts in a near constant stream, easing some of the pressure on her friends from the centaur’s assault. They turned their focus on her and arrows flew back and forth across the plain: a duel of archers fought hundreds of feet apart.

Whish!

An arrow suddenly fell near Alex.

“Damn it!” he swore. “At least one of them isn’t giving up on us!”

“Zig-zag!” Khalik shouted.

The team spread out and zig-zagged through the field, making themselves harder to hit. A few arrows—moving as though they were being guided—still found them, but glanced off force shields and force armour. Despite the distance, cover, and their erratic flying, the archer was still connecting with his arrows.

Alex frowned.

Ahead, he could see Theresa hiding near the foot of the mountain. She was moving between a series of jagged stones and outcroppings; leaning out from behind one, shooting, then racing to the next one. Alex couldn’t see Brutus anywhere, hopefully, he hadn’t been eliminated.

“Wizard incoming!” Isolde suddenly shouted.

Alex glanced behind.

One of the Outcasts’ wizards teleported high above the three centaurs, and streaked after Alex’s team in tandem with the archers.

His eyes narrowed.

Time for another ‘Summon Elemental Beetle Swarm’ spell. The Mark’s interference slammed into him as two arrows finally shattered his last protective force rectangle, but with the aid of the unusual feeling that came to him with teleportation and summoning magic, he was able to smoothly finish the spell.

The swarm appeared behind him.

“Go,” he ordered them. “Get those centaurs!”

He turned to his team. “Hey guys, those archers are in Theresa’s range and the elemental knights are still busy. What do you say we turn around, flank ‘em, then crush ‘em like bugs?”

“Like the sound of that!” Grimloch snarled.

“Those shots are gonna get a hell of a lot more accurate the closer we get!” Thundar warned.

“Then we attack from different angles!” Khalik suggested. “I shall have Najyah strike from above as well!” He turned to Isolde. “You’ve used much of your mana casting flight spells on us all. Why do you and Svenia not join up with Theresa? You can recharge then.”

Isolde glowered at the centaurs. “Fine, but crush them in my stead! Come, Svenia! We can provide some support to Theresa,” she and Svenia veered toward the huntress’ hiding place.

“Alright,” Alex said. “Our main goal is to get Grimloch into their faces. We do that and they’re done.”

“Agreed,” the prince said. “Break!”

They broke off, banking through the grass in a loop and shooting toward the centaurs.

‘They’ll target me first,’ Alex thought. ‘To try and get rid of Claygon, or get rid of me since I control him. Alright, just focus on deflecting, evading…’

His forceball and Wizard’s Hands rose around him.

‘…and interference.’

He reached into his bag for a Haste potion.

Whoosh!

The world seemed to slow down around him.

Folding his arms flat to his sides, Alex shot toward the archers while taking a booby-trapped potion of sensory enhancement from his bag.

He began casting ’Call Through Ice’.

The Mark’s interference slammed into him as more arrows struck his force shield and armour. Each strike was closer to hitting a vital body part. Alex knew his head would be a perfect target for those arrows, so he folded his arms in front of it and concentrated on moving through The Mark’s protests.

Images of Failures.

Feelings of Failures.

Memories of Failures.

But, they were temporary.

The spell completed with help from that curious power.

The booby-trapped potion left his hand, appearing directly in front of a centaur just as his arrow flew from the bowstring.

Crash!

It split the potion bottle.

Fwoosh!

The vapourized liquid spread.

The centaurs didn’t cough—their breath likely protected by Orbs of Air—but the mist obscured their vision, robbing them of accuracy as Alex’s team closed the distance. He concentrated on deflecting arrows. His Hasted reflexes and enhanced senses let him slap them away like flies.

Meanwhile, Khalik and Thundar began their own assault, firing mana bolts and sharpened stones through the grass. The centaurs ducked and the wizard above them chanted an incantation. Force shields appeared before the centaurs, blocking some of the spells, but they still had a barrage of incoming arrows and magic to contend with.

Their accuracy plummeted.

‘Let’s give them some more problems!’ he thought, shooting his Wizard’s Hands and forceball at them. All four glowing, crimson spells rushed through the air.

They were closing the distance.

But the enemy wizard acted first.

He shouted an incantation and pointed at the grass.

Crooom!

Massive rope like vines burst from the earth—weaving and twitching like they had minds of their own—and reached down to wrap around someone in their midst.

Grimloch roared as the green tendrils coiled around his body, then yanked him high in the air. Alex saw two of the archers pull back on their bowstrings, readying to shoot the shark man.

“Now!” he shouted. “Get ‘em!”

His elemental beetles swarmed up from the grass, straight for the centaurs’ eyes. They dropped their bows, turning their trunks this way and that, flailing their arms, fighting to rid themselves of the mass of bug-like creatures targeting their eyes. The wizard acted quickly, working to blast the swarm with a spell.

Whiish!

Theresa’s arrow slammed into him and he disappeared with a cry of surprise.

With the precious moments he’d gained, Grimloch bit his way through the giant vines and disappeared back into the grass.

The centaurs snarled, each galloping away in a different direction, looking to put distance between themselves and Alex’s team.

“Oh no you don’t!” he shouted.

His mind went back to the golden bowstring Theresa had received: it was nearly unbreakable…but the centaurs’ bowstrings weren’t golden, and probably didn’t possess the unique qualities of hers.

“Go for their strings!” he directed the beetles.

The swarm swept after the archers, settled on their bows, and began chomping on the strings with their powerful jaws.

Snap! Snap! Snap!

An archer cursed, turned and sped back toward his team.

Above him, Najyah shot down from the sky, her talons raked across his face.

He slowed for a moment.

Just for a moment.

“Look out!” another archer warned.

Grimloch’s dorsal fin emerged from the grass like it was breaking the surface of the Prinean Sea.

The fin cut through the green.

Najyah veered away just as the archer she was clawing turned.

The sharkman’s jaws snapped open.

Snap!

The centaur disappeared.

Grimloch lunged toward the other two.

“Yes!” Alex cried.

One of them whirled around—his body language showed his determination—and lifted up his hand with the same reverence each centaur showed when lifting their bows.

He spoke:

“Blessed winds that guide bird, ship and beast. Bless me now! Bless me with a weapon that might strike my foes down!”

Alex’s eyes went wide.

There was no rush of mana.

There was only a roaring wind and blinding light.

In the archer’s hand a bow appeared, shining like a hundred stars. The centaur drew back a string of light and four arrows of luminescence appeared upon it.

Twang!

He fired.

Divine arrows drilled through the air and slammed into Grimloch, blasting through his force armour.

With a roar, he vanished.

“Oh shit!” Alex cried.

“Oh shit,” Amir murmured as he watched from the stadium.